The Roses of Ferelden
by JoeLewis
Summary: With the Archdemon dead, Queen Varaya thinks she can have a rest from all the fighting. But fate has something else in mind. With the return of old enemies, Ferelden is pushed to the limit. Can it survive this time?


_The Archdemon was slumped on the ground, still alive but unable to muster the strength to pick itself up. Alistair gritted his teeth and wrenched a bloodstained great sword from the ragged corpse of a dead Hurlock. This had to end now. He ran, yelling at the Archdemon. The Archdemon feebly raised it's huge head, unwittingly providing the determined Grey Warden a path of soft fleshy skin. The great sword plunged into the bottom of the Archdemon's head. Without a moments hesitation, Alistair pushed the blade up through the vile thing's head. With one last bloodcurdling screech, the Archdemon died. Alistair saw what he had done to the thing that had destroyed his homeland and, after a brief smile, fell down to the ground, dead._

_All around, the darkspawn were losing the will to fight then turning and fleeing from the scattered forces of Ferelden. The Dwarves guarding the Denerim gates slaughtered the darkspawn that swarmed around the walls. The men of Redcliffe and the Circle Mages, including Arl Eamon, Bann Teagan and First Enchanter Irving, muttered a thankful prayer to the Maker, while the Dalish Elves rejoiced, praising their Gods. The roiling, red, smoggy clouds above parted and a ray of sun fell on Alistairs limp body, making him look angelic in death._

_But Varaya couldn't be happy. Not now. Not after her fellow Grey Warden and husband had just died. Why hadn't he let her sacrifice herself? Alistair was more important than her any day. Ignoring the rejoicing soldiers around her, she staggered to her dead lover's side. "No, no, no! Not you! Not my Alistair!" Varaya sobbed, clinging to his cold chest._

"_Warden," A familiar voice came from behind her. "He wouldn't like to see you like this."_

_Varaya turned around and glared at the speaker, Wynne. "How do you _know what he would want?" Varaya spat venomously.

"Oh, come here, child," Wynne said pityingly, stooping to hug Varaya. "Come with me now, let's get you warm and in clean clothes and fed."

"But what about _him_? Varaya stared longingly at the limp corpse of Alistair, her first true friend.

"We'll take him somewhere better than this. But sitting here until you get hypothermia won't make any difference, will it? H+e's dead, Varaya. We can do nothing but preserve his memory and remember the good times. Now come with me."

Wynne guided Varaya away from the battlefield, away from the carrion crows that were circling over the Archdemon, away from the stench of death and blood and away from her dead companion.

Far away in Val Royeaux a new day was dawning. A lone rider, cloaked, rode through the city in the half light of dawn. He was making his way towards the centre of the city, racing over the marble streets, towards the Royal Palace. He was stopped at the gates by a group of hardened veterans. "Halt. Who approaches?" the leader, a short, but imposing man barked. The leader had an impeccable Fereldan accent.

"I have something to tell the Empress." The cloaked figure explained, his voice feminine and posh. It also had a very good Fereldan accent.

"We cannot let you through without identification. Who are you?" the short man said sharply.

"But this information may be very beneficial to the Empire. I will hand over my weapons if that will reassure you." the mysterious figure insisted.

"Alright, hand over your weapons," The short man ordered. "Any funny business and you'll be shot."

"Fine." The figure handed over a bow and two daggers.

"Follow us." The short man snapped.

The cloaked figure followed the group of soldiers. An ostler took his horse and the figure proceeded on foot. 

The short soldier stopped in front of a door and knocked. "Come in!" a posh voice called. 

Pushing the door open, the short soldier apologised for the earliness of his visit.

"Oh, it is nothing, General Jacques!" an elegant, raven-haired woman reassured. "Who is your visitor?"

"This man,' General Jacques wasn't even sure if he could call him a man; there was something unnatural about him. 'Arrived at the gates not five minutes ago. He said he wanted an audience, milady. Something that could be beneficial to the Empire, to put it in his words…"

"And who are you?" The Empress asked curiously. "What do you want?"

"My name I will not give, but I have travelled far and long. I have news from Ferelden, your majesty."

"From Ferelden? What has happened?" Empress Celene asked. "Has the Blight truly overrun them?"

"Well, it would have if not for two Grey Wardens. Loghain betrayed King Cailan at Ostagar and proceeded to take over the country, even with the Blight clawing at his heels. But the two Grey Wardens I mentioned raised an army, challenged him and won. When Denerim was taken by the horde, the Grey Wardens turned their forces towards the capital and attacked the horde. They should have been slaughtered but the Grey Wardens got lucky and killed the Archdemon.

"That brings me to the reason I have come to you. I know that deep down you are bitter over the defeat your father suffered in Ferelden all those years ago. Would you not like to show those dog loving barbarians what it means to make an enemy of the Orlesian Empire? Would you not like to extend the borders of your empire further than ever before? If you want this, _now_ is the time to strike. Ferelden is weak from the Blight and it will just take one little push-' at this he jabbed the air with his index finger. '- and it will topple."

"General Jacques, if you and your men utter a word of what has happened in this room to anyone but myself and our mysterious friend, I will make sure that you and your families are never seen again." the Empress whispered venomously. "Now to business. I have been blind and stupid to allow Ferelden to exist for so long. I have pretended to make alliances and in the last Blight I actually intended to make one, but the threat is over now. My father failed in his conquest, but I am stronger and more cunning than him. Has Ferelden got a new King or Queen?"

"King Alistair, one of Maric's bastards, took the throne until the end of the Blight, then he sacrificed himself to kill the Archdemon. The current Queen is an Elven Grey Warden by the name of Varaya. I warn you, do not underestimate her. She may be slight, but she can kill a Hurlock Alpha with one arrow. She was the one who raised the army and quite literally threw Loghain off of his throne. She is well loved by her people and her death would be a huge blow to their morale."

"I see. General Jacques, prepare for war with Ferelden. Get the armouries and smithies working, retrain the men and infiltrate the Fereldan Court with spies. We need to get an agent in a position to kill the new Queen of Ferelden. Varaya."


End file.
